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One More Chance
Dedicated to My husband
Submitted by Linda
It looked as if God had dipped his brush into pots of fushica, orange, and yellow paint to sweep it across the sky. The beauty of the sunset enthralled me but not enough to forget what I'd wondered since we arrived: would Hawaii be the final resting place of our 27 year marriage? I clasped my hands behind my back, and walked back to the room to the rhythm of the surf-rhythm like a sorrowful song.
It wasn't that we didn't love each other, we did. But, life had become mundane and once the children had left, there is little to hold Alan and I together. A trip to paradise seemed a good place for a last ditch effort to reconcile. But, reconcile what? We didn't fight - we weren't passionate about anything. I guess that was the problem.
I stopped, Alan hadn't used my pet name in years.
"Yeah, you, beautiful."
Slowly I turned to the half-open cabana, where Alan's head stuck out, a silly grin on his face. He pointed his finger at me and beckoned me in.
Feeling like a school girl, I knew I probably blushed. My heart skipped as I kicked up warm sand on my way to him.
He smiled, moved behind and wrapped me in his embrace. I leaned against the slightly soft body I'd depended on all these years, and brought my arms up to rest on his, not wanting to let go.
The tiki torches outside cast shadows on two lounge chairs covered with beach towels. In the middle of the table two tall red frosty drinks and a plate of sliced pineapples, kiwi fruit, strawberries with a pot that looked like melted chocolate, waited. Our marriage certificate, still in it's frame, leaned against the legs of the table. How had he snuck that in the luggage?
"I love you Meg. Always have, always will." His voice was soft and he squeezed a little tighter. "We need to work on it, but there isn't really an Alan without Meg."
I let go, and turned in his arms, "I love you Alan. Oh, so much."
My arms wound around his neck and we pressed our lips together.
I leaned back to look at him, those brown eyes I was so used to, so dependent on twinkled at me.
"What God has put together, let no man separate." He said.
"Or woman." I whispered and kissed him again.
I pressed my head against his tropical print shirt. He smelled like mints and something yummy. Coconut suntan lotion. "We always said Hawaii looked like Paradise," he whispered and rested his cheek on top of my head.
"And, we were right."
Alan reached over and undid the tie holding the Cabana front open.
"We've got a lot to talk about," we said in unison, and then laughed.
I sighed and we listened to the surf sing a song of love and reconciliation.